On Hadrian’s Wall, Iraqis rubbed shoulders with Gauls, and the tribes of Britain.

Roots of multiculturalism

The back door is always open, whatever the weather…it must be cold indoors sometimes.

Dogs roam in the yard, and bark at passers-by.

The postman never opens the gate.

a ritual of wraps, warm-ups, stretching and skipping.

then the real effort: sweat drips as the punches land

Outside it’s still and calm

Inside, energy builds and dissipates in a perpetual cycle

Debt Bomb. 

Primed. 

Ready.

‘Buy Now – Pay Later’.

How many meanings in four words?

Smiles the hardest thing to buy. No-one is giving them away.

A young guy – he’s half-lying on a leather sofa – looks at me strangely over his book.

I can’t decide if he thinks I’m an angel or a demon.

I only know what I think…

and the sun is shining on Riverside

The roller moves up and down the square,

while on the outfield the mowers move smoothly in opposing circles.

It’s peaceful.

Motivation is hard to find.

Your own depends on other people’s: Enthusiasm – Interest – Life.

I look for it, and like mist at dawn it dissolves and disappears.

she looks at me blankly,

with a hint of  ’why should I care?’

‘why should she?’, I ask myself.

All around me youth marches on. 

Confident.

Superior.

Strangely joyless.

You should go your own way…

You must go your own way…

The only other way is madness and despair

Not rich but whole.

A ‘good’ father – whatever that is…I’m still trying to find out…although my children think they know.